Crossfire
by ravenroi
Summary: Tino has been running away all his life, but when he finds a place he believes he can call home, he stops and struggles with the abusive relationship that has scarred his life. Berwald has found himself out of a job most of his life. Now he's gotten himself tangled in a dangerous exchange with the mafia. Both wonder about the strange sounds coming from the rooms above and below.
1. Apartment

Moving has always been really hard for me, I mean, I've gotten used to it over the years but nevertheless, it's hard. I don't stay in one place for very long, I guess I'm just searching for a place to call home. Everywhere I go, I seem to attract pain and disaster, mostly to myself. I feel like it's just something I deserve. I've spent most of my life drifting from place to place, leaving a piece of my bloody heart behind to rot. But, I always stick up my chin and tell myself, next place, next time, I'll be happy. Empty promises, yet, what's the point in moping about how underprivileged you are? Might as well keep searching. I've learned to keep myself protected, behind walls, so that next time, it won't be so painful.

I breathed in the damp air as I walked towards my new apartment building, allowing my eyes to travel up the tall building, drinking in the lovely shimmering windows. I have a strong feeling that this time I might stay for a while. I grabbed my suitcase and dragged it into the complex, the movers would be here soon with my small amount of possessions, I would need to be prepared. I pressed the white "up" button on the elevator and watched as the numbers on the screen decreased until, finally, it reached the first floor. I entered the empty compartment and clicked the button with number 12 beside it. My leg twitched with excitement as I impatiently waited for the door to open. After what seemed like forever the elevator gave a small ding sound and the doors creaked open. A thin dank hallway was exposed; I stepped out into it while briefly checking the number on my silver room key. "Room 6" I muttered, confirming my apartment number. I made my way down the hall a little ways, checking the gold numbers screwed to the doors, until finally I reached the one with the glimmering 6 on it. After fumbling with the key a bit, I opened the door to reveal a spacious living room. It was quite a nice space. The windows extended from ceiling to floor and stretched along the entire wall opposite where I stood. There was even a balcony, complete with some complimentary shrubs and a white lawn chair. Though, I think the lawn chair was probably left behind by the last residents. To the left was a gleaming kitchen that had enough room for two people to cook in at the same time, something that I'd never had before. Not there had ever been a second person to cook with anyways. Finally, to my right was a closed door, that I presumed led to my new bedroom. I dragged my things to the door and opened it. It was a very simple room; it had a small window, blue carpet, an off white paint job and a stiff looking bed with blue sheets. For some reason that made me love it all the more. I dropped my bags and sat on the flat bed, taking a deep breath and registering that I'm really starting all over again. A sharp knock rang from the living area; I sprang up, straightened my clothes and exited the room.

"Hello" I greeted as I opened the door. I bunch a burly looking men with overalls and company caps greeted my gaze. "Hey." one of the men said and then stopped, looking at me expectantly, "We have your things, you are Mr. uh... Vaina...?" He mumbled the last part of the name and then coughed "Right?"

"Oh! Yeah that's me, come on in!" I smiled and pretended not to notice.

"Just direct us where to put your belongings and we'll be on our way" He said while scribbling some things on clip board, "oh, and sign here". I signed the sheet and then, when all my things were in their places, I gave a big grin and waved out the movers. After taking a satisfying look at my new living space I collapse on the stiff couch and sighed contently. BAM BAM BAM. A rude noise from the door jarred me from my happy stupor, I frowned and approached the source of the banging. "Who is it?"

I warily asked.

"It's your neighbour, I came to welcome you to the floor" a forced high pitched voice explained from the other side.

"Oh really?" I stated skeptically. What I did next was completely stupid and dangerous... I opened the door. Though, I immediately regretted it and tried to shut the door on _his _face right after. He shoved the door open and swaggered into my apartment like it also belonged to him. He looked around, nose upturned, with the most annoying look of distaste contorting on his face. "This is the dump you now call home Tino? You seriously think this place will beat living with me?" He scoffed violently, spittle flying from his grotesque mouth.

"Anywhere beats living with you, thanks." I replied, allowing ice to coat my voice. "What the hell are you doing here anyways Ivan?"

"Aw don't be like that Tino, baby. You don't belong here, come back with me, and everything will be amazing." He cooed while stroking my face lovingly.

"You're sick." I said and slapped his hand away from me. Then, it happened. In that split second, everything changed. Rage flashed across his eyes and his hand raised high into the air. I closed my eyes, waiting for the retribution I was about to receive, slumping my shoulders in defeat. In that moment it was like time itself stopped, all I could hear was the swoosh of a falling arm. SMACK. That hand landed with a resounding dissonance. My body stumbled from the force, all the air in my lungs was forced out and for a second it felt like I was drowning. Shameful tears welled in my eyes and pain spread across my face. I looked him in the face, allowing all my rage and loathing to show clearly. The anger in his eyes faded and his face softened.

"Sweet Tino, that was your fault ya know. You provoked me, it's ok, I still love you" His sick words closed around my heart. He had me, completely. He stooped down and lifted my chin, placing a gentle kiss on my lips.

"I won't ever let you leave me." He whispered softly, poison lacing every word he formed.

It was all I could do from collapsing as he held me, deepening the kiss. I couldn't feel anything, my body was limp as he touched me. I felt dead inside.


	2. A Bad Situation

I've gotten myself into a bad situation. I didn't mean to, if I knew this is how it would have turn out, I wouldn't have agreed.

I started doing mutt work for the mafia a few months ago. I got desperate, to the point where I had nearly used up all the money I'd earned in the war. I decided to move into a small apartment, in a small city, hoping that I'd be able to get a job. Everywhere I applied I was turned down. Somethin' about being too scary, or big, or clumsy. Though I'm not any of those things. Then one day as I walked back to the apartment from the most recent job that rejected me, a man appeared in front of me and gave me a job offer. He said I had certain assets he was looking for. Obviously I thought it was quite suspicious but at the time I was so desperate that I agreed without a second thought. At first it was really good, too good to be true. The mafia runs out of a bath shop. I was doing things like delivering soap and bathrobes. As the weeks passed my errands were gradually heightened. Suddenly I had to retrieve money from individuals selling out of their homes but not gaining enough money. Then I was threatening costumers who claimed the products to be not what was advertised; it was my job to make sure they kept their mouths shut. I shot through the ranks quickly because of my ability to get the job done with as little mess as possible. That was when I found out about what the business was really about. I was stupid and hadn't realized until that incident that I had been working for the local mafia. I hadn't worked for so long that I could easily delude myself into believing that this was how every business functioned. That is, until I saw the dirty rotten insides of the machine. There were reports of vandalism, deaths and bombings littering the newspapers. I thought nothing of it, it's a city, stuff like that happens all the time. Yet, the stronger the underbelly of the city grew, the more destruction and death plague the citizens. It got so bad that I started expressing my concerns to my colleagues, to which the reply was a laugh and a hearty slap on the back. That's when, just after I got back from an assignment, I was taken to the boss.

"Berwald, Berwald, Berwald," The boss said with a satisfied smile. "You have done well Berwald, so very well". I nodded but kept my face blank and my body stiff, a military pose. His eyes gleamed as he drew closer to me he touched my chin and guided my face, forcing me to look at him. "You look unhappy Berwald, is something wrong?" his voice was sickly sweet with concern, and his eyes, his eyes ripped into me. I tried to look away but he wouldn't let me, he just held my chin and looked at me with those eyes.

"N'thns wrong, sir" I mumbled quietly, wishing so hard for him to let me go. His grip loosened and he slinked his arm around my neck, pulling me closer to him. His breath smelt like bourbon. My body loosened at the feel of him, the warmth.

"Are you sure Berwald? We wouldn't want our best man to be... miserable," he whispered, the last words just barely a sigh. I felt my mind go fuzzy and my body started to get weak. He turned around and spoke to the others in the room, "Leave us now." He took my hand and pulled me to his bed. Laughing as he pulled off my clothes, I couldn't do anything, even if I wanted to. I didn't know if I wanted to.


End file.
